"Susan Wade - The Convertible Coven" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wade Susan)

He shook my hand. “Ray Cooper. This is a really nice little fastback you got
here.”

“Thanks, Ray,” I said. I finished wiggling the connector into place and closed
the trunk. “Mr. Brown is one of my favorite people. Hey, I don’t mean to be rude,
but I’m late for a meeting. Thanks again.”

“Sure,” he said. He opened the door for me, which surprised me a little. He
closed Mr. Brown’s door gently, with just the right amount of lift at the end to get it
to shut securely. “See you, Angie,” he said.

“See you.” I didn’t go through the whole aura thing with him standing there,
but Mr. Brown purred like a big tabby when I turned the key.

I was only fifteen minutes late to the seminar.

Keith was waiting at the back of the church auditorium (they rent the building
from a bookstore that went bust, so the auditorium’s not very big), tapping his foot.
“Angie,” he hissed as soon as he saw me, “I told you, twelve sharp.”

Keith’s the best-looking guy I’ve ever met: he’s got big gray-blue eyes and
long dark hair that looks like Dennis Miller’s. He’s also the one who turned me on to
the witchcraft series at the church, which was very nice of him. “Sorry, Keith,” I
whispered.

We made our way to the seats in the third row he had held with his notebook
and sweater. The woman at the end of the aisle gave me an assessing look as we
climbed over her — I figured she was wondering how attached Keith was to me and
maybe whether she could lay a hex to get rid of me. I dragged my backpack over her
knees and smiled apologetically.

Today’s topic was “Finding Your Familiar,” and Keith already had his
notebook out and was scribbling notes. I got mine out of my pack too.

The lecturer stood on a small stage with blue velvet curtains. She was a
heavyset woman who had very straight, very long black hair and bangs, and was
wearing a loose purple caftan with gold embroidery around the collar and hem.

“— familiar is a very important part of developing your powers as a witch,”
she was saying. They must have started late, because it didn’t sound as if we’d
missed much. “Truthfully, in most cases, witches don’t really come into their
powers until they have three things: a familiar, a personal grimoire, and membership
in a coven.”

I made a note. I’d been working on my book of spells for almost three years,
and Keith was going to propose me for membership in his coven when Sharon
Silversmith transferred to Omaha next month. It sounded like all I had to do now
was find my familiar.

“What’s her name?” I whispered to Keith.